


Speculo

by givemeunicorns



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bonding, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:47:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givemeunicorns/pseuds/givemeunicorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something ached in her chest when she set eyes upon him, and she knew, in an instant why he bothered her so deeply. It was not his closeness to Heracleo, not entirely. It was that, in him, she saw a reflection of her self. <br/>~~~~<br/>Castus worries for Nasir and goes to Laeta for aid. Laeta, still wary of pirates, begins to see she may have more in common with the Silician than she'd like to believe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speculo

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Spartacus or the characters!

Laeta had come a long way since her first days among the rebellion. Where once she saw enemies at all sides, she now greeted many as friend. Still, there were some who looked upon her traitor, and some whom she could not bring herself to trust alone. Despite her best efforts, for Nasir's sake, the Silician pirate was among them. Even as the brand on her arm healed, she could not forget his closness to Heraclieo, that they had often drank and embraced as brothers. She wondered, had Castus not been so removed from his captain’s company, would he have defended her? She knew the answer, and it dug deep into her soul. There were few faces here, even among friends, that would have fought for the honor of a roman woman. As there had once been a time when she would never have thought to fight for a slaves.

Still, she tried to at least be civil with the man. For Nasir was her friend, one counted most dear among them, and his friendship with the pirate was already too contended among the others. And now, with Agron's loss...

She shook her head, and busied herself once more with grinding herbs, as Kore had taught her. She missed the woman fiercely already.

“Laeta, may I have word,” a voice behind her asked and her spine stiffened. She forced a cordial smile onto her lips as she turned.

“Castus,” she greeted him and he offered a nod of thanks, careful to take a seat a comfortable distance from her, allowing her her space. She did not trust him, but some small part of her respected him.

“You have fit yourself well into the rebellion, it would seem,” he chuckled, but there was a nervousness to him, in the way unconsciously traced the patterns of his bracelets. Laeta had once had a set just like them, a gift from her husband. The thought forced a cold chill to settle in the pit of her stomach and she turned from.

“For some,” she replied cordially, attempting to look busy, hoping he would leave her.

He sighed, brushing a hand across his face.

“I know you hold no fondness for me,” he sighed and the wearniess in his voice forced her gaze, “But it is not for my sake that I come to you now.”

Something ached in her chest when she set eyes upon him, and she knew, in an instant why he bothered her so deeply. It was not his closeness to Heracleo, not entirely. It was that, in him, she saw a reflection of her self. He was torn form his life, from everything he had known, abandoned by those he held closest to him, left behind in the jaws of the wolf his shipmates had turned upon. He'd spent long days in chains, and even once relased, even though he spilled the blood of the enemy, that he stood beside the rebels in battle, he was not one of them. A fact many were quick to remind him, as they always been with her. There was a sharp emptiness in his eyes, masked by weariness and deep concern. But still she could see it, because she felt it too.

She sighed, offering him an earnest smile.

“No fault of yours, but rather that of unfortunate company, and hands he laid upon me. I will not begrudge you his wickedness in the future. What aid can I provide you?”

Castus smiled, tired and wane, but it was there. She could see why a man would fall at his feet, with a smile like that. But it was gone in an instant.

“A feeling I well understand. Heracleo was a beast when the mood took him, one even I can not make excuse for. He came to desrved end, as I hear it. But I did not come to speak of him, but of Nasir. Heartbreak has taken bitter hold of him.”

Laeta offered him a sympathetic gaze. The Syrian had been kind to her, even when she had sat in chains. She had watched him in fear, that first day, the small, hissing demon who threw about men twice his own size. When he'd come bearing food for the prisoners that night, she had been sure cruel mockery would follow, as it always did. Instead, she found a boy with kind eyes and a gentle voice speaking to her. There was no wickedness in his gaze, only distant pity. He was careful to portion out more food to the younger ones, the older ones, and women heavy with child. It was not what she had expected. It was Nasir who had tended her wounds, who had eased fever and pain to the best of his ability. He'd been as her once, he'd told her. That Spartacus had taken everything from him, he'd thought, only to realize he had been given something far better. He knew how the women of Rome were treated, only a step better than slaves, still chattel all the same. Under Spartacus, women stood the equal of men. He coxed food into her when she refused it, as if he could pull her back towards life by the force of his will. He taught her to wield a small knife, not as a warrior, but to defend herself. He taught her to set traps, to clean animals, to set her own tend. Many nights she'd enjoyed his company at her fire, his easy laugh and warm smile.

But now his eyes were dull, and haunted. He did not smile, he did not laugh. He was quicker to anger than before, and if he was not training, he gone from sight.

She glanced at the pirate once more. Strong shoulders were bent under the weight of worry and felt the deepest sorrow for him in that moment. His affections for the Syrian were well known, as was the contention it had caused early on. But in wake of Nasir and Agron's reuniting, the flirting hand taken on an easy, teasing tone, an enjoyable game with now true end or consequence. In his eyes now, she saw the truth of it. Not a game, not for Castus, who sought a man he could never have, not even with obstacle removed. A man ready to put his own feelings aside for the pain of another. Not a pirate, not a traitor, but a good man.

“I have seen,” she said softly, “But for all the remedies Kore taught me, heartbreak was not among them.”

“No,” Castus sighed, “I did not think so. But the symptoms can be treated, yes? The refusal to sleep, to eat?”

Laeta turned her lessons over in her head, remembering the ways that Kore had taught her to coax a weary body to sleep or to restore lost appetite.

“That, I think I can do,” she offered, and he graced her with a wane smile. She reached for Castus before her mind recognized the action, covering one of his large hands with her own.

“Gratitude.”


End file.
